Voyages of the USS Atlas
by Tennoko Endellion
Summary: The USS Atlas is a brand-new starship with a brand-new and slightly impulsive captain, who has to earn the respect of her crew. This is my first fan fiction story. Please review!
1. Step Into My Starship

**I just realized the lines in between the sections were all messed up. I've fixed them in this chapter and chapter 2. Hope this makes it a little easier to read!**

* * *

Space, the final frontier: these are the voyages of the starship _Atlas_: its continuing mission to explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no one has gone before.

* * *

Thel Kres'sh glared at the human male. The man stared back defiantly at him, as if the Andorian were not a Starfleet officer _and_ totally capable of pulverizing him.

Thel hissed a warning as the human changed his position, signaling that he was ready for whatever his opponent was about to try. The human—Thel couldn't recall his name—froze.

Then, in a flash, the human rushed at him, holding something in his right hand. Thel caught him moments before the blade would have made contact with his skin. He pushed, and the man stumbled back a few feet before catching himself. But before he could regain his balance, Thel struck out at him, his fist connecting with the human's face. He continued to strike the human, his anger seeming to drown out all sense of time.

He felt a hand on his chest."That's enough." A human woman of average size (for a human) with shoulder-length black hair and surprisingly bright gray eyes had positioned herself between the two males. Although both were several centimeters taller than her, and definitely stronger, something about her commanded their attention, making it impossible to continue their fight.

"Let's just take a deep breath and think about things for a minute," she said, her voice firm and compelling. Thel lowered his fist.

"Your help is not necessary, human _woman,_" Kres'sh hissed. "The situation was under my control."

"Yes, I could see that," she replied sarcastically, her harsh gaze making Kres'sh flinch imperceptibly.

A low moan cut through the subsequent silence. Threl looked down, and saw for the first time how much damage he had done to the human—Zaroden, he recalled. The man was laying against the bar, his face was cut, and blood was pouring from a wound at his mouth. More blood—red human blood—was on Thel's blue-skinned hands, creating an odd, purplish stain.

"Is beating people senseless part of your Starfleet training, _Lieutenant?_" the woman continued. He suddenly regretted not trading in his yellow uniform for less conspicuous attire.

"He started it." Thel couldn't believe he had just said that. He sounded like a stubborn child.

"You finished it," the woman retorted. "I suggest you get out before the owner finds out about this. He's not a forgiving man."

Thel said nothing, simply nodded and did as she said. In situations like these, he had learned, it was best to go quietly. Besides, even he had heard of Kyle Harrowden's reputation as the most miserly, by-the-book, not to mention bigoted man this side of the Federation.

* * *

The hall was a sea of bodies, consisting of representatives of the multitude of races that made up the United Federation of Planets. One blond head bounced up and down rhythmically as its owner searched frantically for her friend.

Barely four months previously, Cadet Alexandria Thatcher had graduated from the Academy and become Ensign Alexandria Thatcher. As one of the top students in her class, she had been quickly assigned to a starship.

That was why she was here today—to begin her service aboard the _USS Atlas,_ the fleet's newest Excelsior-class starship. It was no _Enterprise,_ but she was still honored to be posted aboard it. A new ship meant new opportunities, and a new chance for adventure. This was why she had joined Starfleet.

Alex jumped again, but wasn't even close to being able to see over the crowd. At 1.5 meters, she was shorter than any other adult she knew. This was not at all helpful in trying to find her friend and soon-to-be fellow crew member, Mark Nguyen. She sighed. They had agreed to meet each other, but had forgotten to arrange just how they would _find_ each other. This was a big problem.

As Alex was pushed about by the crowd, she studied her surroundings carefully. There had to be some high point where she could see everyone in the room. There! That room overhead would do nicely. It hung out over the main area, overlooking the space with transparent walls.

There was a turbolift below the room, and Alex stepped in quickly behind a lieutenant whose attention was occupied by the padd in his hands. "Level two," he said, and the lift began to rise.

The doors hissed open, revealing a large, spacious lounge-type area. The most central area of the room, including that by the longest window across from her, was filled with small sets of tables and chairs. Comfortable armchairs and couches lined the other, side windows. Alex made a beeline for the spot she judged would give her the best view of the crowd.

"Can I help you, Ensign?" Alex jumped at the unexpected question and whirled around.

"Mark!" she cried. "I was just looking for you!" She threw herself onto him, crushing him in an embrace with a strength that belied her size. "Are you ready? When are we supposed to beam up?"

"I'm not sure," he confessed, prying the 19-year-old off of him. "I think they said 0900 hours, but I could be wrong."

"Oh." Alex let the subject drop; there would be time aplenty to worry about it. She faced the window again. "I wish Luke were here." The sadness in her voice was striking.

Mark stood just behind her right shoulder. "I do too," he said. Luke Thatcher had been his close friend at the Academy and on board the _Oregon,_ both officers' first assignment.

"He'd be proud of you—you're only nineteen, and not only have you already graduated from the academy near the top of your class, but you've been posted aboard Starfleet's newest ship within a year of graduating. How many people can say that?" The age of the typical graduate was at least twenty one.

Alex looked at her feet. "I know."

Her companion sighed. If he were being completely open, he would tell her he was just as proud of her as if she were his own sister. Had he just managed to make her worse?

"Listen, kid. Alex. I miss that brother of yours as much as you do. Heck, I was even _there _when it happened. But we've both got to move on. He wouldn't want you to waste your life because you were still mourning him."

"Mark, I_ know_ that. I just meant that I miss him."

He sighed. "Yeah. I know."

Alex looked at her friend's somber face. Had she hurt his feelings somehow? "You're right, though."

"Huh?"

"About needing to move on. After all, we have a galaxy to explore."

Mark smiled. "You're pretty excited about that, aren't you?"

Alex turned and looked at him with mock surprise. "Of course I am! I've been working toward this for three years."

"Well, we'll be going on board soon enough. Do you have all your stuff?"

"Yes—but I left it in my dorm. I should go get it."

"I'll come with you."

Mark trailed behind Alex as she returned to the quarters she had occupied since entering the Academy. He could practically see the excitement radiating from her as she bounced down the corridors, and confessed to himself that he was pretty eager himself. It was hardly his first starship assignment, but he'd never been a science officer—_or_ a second officer—before.

Yes, the _USS Atlas_ held many adventures in store for both of them, he was sure. He would just have to help Alex with her luggage before he could get to them. Who knew someone so small could pack such heavy suitcases?

* * *

"Have you tested the transporters yet, Ensign?"

"Er... no, sir. I-"

"Why not?"

"Sir, you had me fixing the port turbolift on the bridge. I though Ensign Gordimer was supposed to-"

"Ensign Barrows, the rest of the crew is expecting to be beamed up in one hour. Do you expect me to allow people to be dematerialized by that thing _if we don't even know it works?_"

"Sir, I-"

"Come with me, Ensign. We have a transporter to test."

"Yes, sir."

Tyler Barrows watched his commanding officer warily as he followed her to the transporter room. Chief Engineer Carol Lylan was brilliant, he admitted, but her people skills left much to be desired. He had been on the _Atlas _for a week, assisting in last-minute preparations for the ship's departure, and in all that time, the Lieutenant Commander had yet to let him finish a sentence.

He supposed it was part of being brilliant—you expected everyone else to be able to keep up with you, and when they didn't, you got angry.

Carol stood with her arm crossed as the ensign stood at the transporter controls. On the pad sat an empty storage container—the perfect subject for a transporter test. Sure, running a diagnostic might be an easier way to identify any malfunctions, and that was the route most engineers would take, but Carol Lylan was hardly "most engineers." Besides, there were certain things that diagnostics didn't always pick up, and if there _was_ a problem, she didn't want to find out about it in the middle of beaming up an actual person. Storage containers were far easier to replace.

"Energize," she said.

The container dissolved with a hum, and Carol nodded at the ensign. "So far so good. Now bring it back up."

Barrows touched the transporter controls again, and the box began to reform on the transporter platform. However, the image flickered, and almost vanished. "What's wrong?" Lylan barked.

"I'm not sure. I have the signal just fine, but-"

"Give me that." She moved the ensign out of the way and took over the controls. He was right—there was nothing wrong with the container's signal—something else was keeping it from reforming properly. Gritting her teeth, Carol adjusted the controls slightly. The storage container flickered again, then disappeared for good.

Carol slammed her fist down on the console. "Lost it." She gave Ensign Barrows a Didn't-I-Tell-You kind of look. "Glad that wasn't the captain, aren't you?"

Tyler nodded uncertainly. The captain was the Chief Engineer's older sister. He would hate to be anywhere near the younger sister, let alone to be held responsible, if anything happened to the older one.

He only hoped the captain's temper was less... volatile than her sister's.

Chief Engineer Lylan activated her communicator. "_Atlas _to Captain Lylan. Sara, we have a problem."

"Lylan here. What is it, Carrie?"

"We're having some difficulties with the transporters. I'm going to have to take them offline until I can fix them."

"Understood. We'll just have to take the shuttles, then. Captain out."

* * *

Mark and Alex were heading toward the transporter platform for beam-up to the ship when they were interrupted by the intercom.

"This is Captain Lylan to the crew of the _Atlas._ Due to a problem with the transporters, boarding of the ship will be conducted via shuttlecraft. All crew members are to report to the shuttlebay at the scheduled time of 0900 hours. Lylan out."

"0900—I knew it," Mark said.

"I wonder what could be wrong with the transporters," Alex mused. She frowned slightly. "Where is the shuttlebay?"

"This way, I think. Follow me."

It turned out the shuttlebay was _not _that way after all. Mark and Alex had to eventually ask a helpful computer console for directions, which Alex remarked that they should have done in the first place.

They finally arrived just as Alex's chronometer beeped 0900 hours and were directed to an available shuttlecraft. As they took their seats at the control panel, two other officers entered the shuttle and sat behind them.

Mark turned his seat around. One of them was an Andorian lieutenant. The other, a commander, looked human except for his irises, which were completely black. A Betazoid, then.

The Betazoid in question extended his hand to the scrutinizing human lieutenant commander. "Commander Elni Deron, future first officer." He smiled, sensing the human's discomfort. "This is Thel Kres'sh, the security officer."

"Mark Nguyen—er, _Lieutenant Commander_ Mark Nguyen, science officer. This is Ensign Alexandria Thatcher. _Alex!_"

Alex was beginning the shuttle's launch sequence, apparently oblivious to the presence of any other beings in the shuttle. Mark elbowed her, causing her to glare at him. "What?"

"I'm sure flying the shuttle takes concentration, but could you please talk to us while you're doing it?"

"Oh..sorry." Alex's forehead crinkled in confusion. The commander was already talking to Mark, and the Andorian didn't look like he wanted to talk at all. Why did _she _need to say anything? "Um, hi."

Commander Deron extended his hand to her. She looked at it for a few seconds, not sure whether to take it or not. Elni sensed her nervousness and uncertainty and withdrew his unshaken hand. "Don't worry, I don't bite," he said, trying to alleviate some of her doubt. When the joke had little effect, he looked at the man next to her, who was clearly her friend. Nguyen felt concern for Thatcher, but at the same time was unalarmed by her behavior. This was normal for her, then.

The commander leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. "You're a navigator?"

Ensign Thatcher kept her gaze firmly on the viewport. "Yes, sir."

"You enjoy it, don't you?" That she did was obvious to the Betazoid; guiding the shuttle stimulated unmistakable joy in her mind.

"Yes, sir. As a child I always used to pretend that I was pilot of a starship."

Mark snorted. "She's got the maps for most of charted space memorized. She was able to skip an entire year at the Academy because she spent most of her childhood reading about navigational systems and stellar cartography. In my opinion, sir, the _Atlas _lucky to have her."

The lieutenant commander's statement was objective, but it still caused Alexandria to blush.

Mark changed the subject. "Do you know the names of the other senior officers, sir?" he asked Deron.

"Yes. The Chief Engineer and the captain's sister is Carol Lylan, and the Vulcan Chief Medical Officer is called T'lea."

"A Vulcan, huh?" Mark bit his lip. He'd met a few Vulcans in the course of his career. He'd never known any of them personally, but then he hadn't wanted to. They were arrogant, hypercritical, and they looked down on humans and treated them as inferior beings.

Mark's disdain wasn't evident even to the non-telepaths in the shuttlecraft, but to Elni, it was obvious. He was confident, however, that the human's feelings would not affect his ability to perform his duties; he would never have gotten so far as to become the Science Officer of a starship if it were otherwise.

Suddenly, Spacedock came into view. Along with the other shuttles, theirs flew past the geometric frame that held the _USS Atlas _and into the ship's shuttlebay.

* * *

Captain Sarajul Lylan sat in the shuttle next to the silent Vulcan. She had attempted to start a conversation several times, only to have T'lea answer her questions and then fall silent. Two of said Vulcan's nurses sat behind the pair, clearly not sure what to think about being in a shuttle with two individuals who outranked them by a kilometer.

Sara sighed heavily, and turned to face her CMO once again.

"Are you always like this?" she demanded.

The Vulcan cocked an eyebrow at her. "Like what, sir?"

"You're awfully quiet. Are you always this boring?"

Inwardly, T'lea was surprised. It did not fit her understanding of human behavior for such a question to be deemed acceptable. "Boring," as far as she was aware, was an insult, especially in reference to a person.

"Please clarify, sir. In what way do I fit the description of 'boring'?"

"I've been trying to start a conversation with you for the past five minutes, but all I get are computerized responses. I repeat: are you always this boring?"

Ah. It would seem that the captain found her conversation lacking. "What do you wish to talk about, sir?"

"Anything. Tribbles; warp drive; Regulan bloodworms... I know! Doctor, what do you think about Starfleet's policy about captains staying on board during away missions?"

There went that eyebrow again. "It is not logical for a commanding officer to endanger him or herself unnecessarily. Therefore, unless the situation requires the presence of a high-ranking officer, it is preferable for the captain to remain with the ship."

An odd glint came to the captain's eyes. "But how can a captain expect her crew to go into a dangerous situation if she herself won't?"

"Sir, as regulations are quite clear in this area, the subject is academic."

Now the captain raised her eyebrow. "There's an old saying on Earth—some rules are made to be broken."

_USS Atlas, Spacedock, Earth Orbit_

"Initiating automatic docking procedure," Ensign Thatcher announced as she relinquished control to the ship's computer. Manual docking was dangerous and not highly recommended.

The shuttle flew effortlessly through the open hangar doors and landed on the deck. Three others had landed only moments before; two more came in after them. When it was clear that no more shuttles would be arriving for a few minutes, a forcefield sealed off the room and the atmosphere was restored.

Alex pushed some button or other, and the shuttlecraft's door opened. Commander Daron stepped out first, followed by Nguyen, Kres'sh, and Thatcher.

They were greeted by a yellow-clad woman with olive skin, short black curls, and an oddly murderous look in her eyes. She extended her hand. "Chief Engineer Carol Lylan. Welcome aboard." Empathic abilities or not, there was something about the woman that resembled a hurricane being confined in a (very) small container.

Each of the shuttle's former passengers greeted her in turn. Alex managed to force herself to accept the offered handshake; Elni greeted her warmly, carefully avoiding anything that might set off the barely suppressed anger he detected. Mark did likewise, though his deduction was based on more mundane evidence. Only Thel's behavior managed to complicate matters.

Lt. Commander Lylan extended her hand toward the Andorian, but the appendage was ignored. Thel glared at it, then glared at its owner. Carol glared back. "Do you have a problem, Lieutenant?"

"You look...familiar," Kres'sh said.

"Fancy that," she retorted, crossing her arms over her torso. "Do you lot know where your quarters are, or do I have to show you myself?"

"We know where they are, thank you," the Second Officer said graciously.

"Well, that was pleasant," Mark muttered as they walked away.

"She is an engineer. Her ship is not functioning at optimal levels. Her irritability is understandable."

"I just hope she's not too much like her older sister."

_Unnamed Shuttlecraft, Earth Orbit_

Said older sister was giving her shuttle's controls over to the _Atlas'_ computer just as those words were being spoken. There were a few seconds' delay as the bay was made vacant; then the shuttle landed soundlessly on the deck and its occupants stepped out into the starship for the first time.

"Carol!" Sara recognized her sister (and now subordinate), who was emerging from wherever she had been when the bay was a part of the vacuum of space, from across the deck.

"Captain," the engineer returned solemnly.

Sara's smile faded. "I know that look. How bad is it?"

The younger woman placed her hands on her hips. "Not only are the transporters not working, but half the replicators are offline as well. That's not to mention the dozen of other things that have gone wrong in the past couple of days. I don't know what Starfleet expects you to do with this thing—fly it, or sell it for scrap."

Ignoring T'lea's raised eyebrow, Captain Lylan replied, "I'm fully confident in your abilities, Commander. Besides-" she slapped her sister on the shoulder' "what's life without a little challenge?"

Carol returned the gesture. "Well, I'll see you around, Sara—that is, if this bucket of bolts doesn't blow us to the ends of the universe first." Without further discussion, she turned and marched off toward engineering.

When Lylan turned back to T'lea, she discovered that the Vulcan's left eyebrow had apparently disappeared, and was presumably hidden somewhere under her slightly wavy hair. "She is your sister?" The captain nodded in reply.

"She is very... vocal."

"Oh, that's just how she is. She didn't really mean most of what she said; it's just her way of blowing off steam."

"Ah."

"Now, I'm sure you're eager to inspect your sick bay, so I'll leave you to that. Hopefully next time we meet it'll be over a friendly game of chess and _not_ involve me missing any body parts." The she walked away down the corridor, leaving the bemused Vulcan to ponder the illogic of humans and dread the day she ever fully understood it.

* * *

The newly promoted Captain Sarajul Lylan had awoken herself at 0600 hours in order to make it onto the bridge ahead of anyone else.

She sat in her chair, gazing at the viewscreen, which showed the familiar constellations but without any interference from light pollution, atmosphere, or weather. It was, without exception, the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

She closed her eyes, feeling the faint humming of the ship's engines, which were just being started up in preparation for today's departure. She ran her hand over the arm of her chair, feeling each of the controls. _Her_ chair. _Her_ ship. It felt like she had been waiting for this her entire life without knowing it.

The turbolift doors hissed open, and Lylan heard one pair of feet come to join her. Without opening her eyes to see who it was, she said, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," a calm voice replied.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if one day we could move through space on our own, without a starship to hold us together; to actually _be in _space_."_

Her statement was met with silence, as if her neighbor did not know what to say. She opened her eyes, and saw a tall, pale man standing next to her, gazing at the viewscreen. She stood up next to him, her eyes taking note of the collar of his uniform.

"Good morning, Commander."

"Captain."

"I'm glad you could make it, Mr. Daron," she said jovialy.

Elni took her outstretched hand. "Pleased to meet you again, Captain Lylan."

He scrutinized her face. "If I may ask, sir, just how long have you been up here? Alpha shift doesn't start until 0800 hours." It was barely 0745 now.

"Oh, I know. I just wanted a chance to sit on the bridge before it was crowded with people. Call it a little quirk of mine."

"I see. Am I interrupting you, then?"

"Oh, no, I was almost done anyway. Besides, I've hardly met any of my crew yet. Far be it from me to turn down an opportunity to do so now." Her smile was infectious; Daron couldn't help returning it.

Daron leaned against the railing next to the captain's chair. "Well, if that's the case, far be it from _me _to deny you that opportunity. Tell me about Earth. What's it like?"

The next fifteen minutes passed swiftly as Captain and First Officer began sharing stories about their home planets. Both officers became increasingly certain that they would get along well together.

When the turbolift doors hissed open and the Science Officer and Navigator stepped on deck, they saw their two commanding officers side by side facing the main viewscreen. The captain stood and turned to face them. "Lieutenant Commander Nguyen; Ensign Thatcher. Good morning." She adjusted her shirt, not so much out of nervousness as out of a desire to be respectable toward her crew. This was the first day of her first command; nothing could go wrong.

"Good morning, sir," Nguyen said, moving towards the science station to the back and right of the captain's chair.

"Good morning," Thatcher muttered, looking suddenly unsure of herself. As the petite ensign walked to and took her seat at the conn, Lylan and Daron exchanged a glance. The Betazoid had, of course, picked up on the young woman's sudden burst of panic, but had no more idea of the cause than his human captain.

At that moment, the turbolift opened again, depositing a handful more officers on the bridge...

...including a tall Andorian male who froze the minute he laid eyes on his captain.

Understandably, Thel Kres'sh was quite stunned. Before him, very clearly captain of this ship, was the woman who had asserted her authority over him in the bar the previous night. The pair stood with their eyes locked for a few seconds, before the captain finally smiled at Thel.

"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Kres'sh," she said amicably. The Andorian managed to incline his head in acknowledgment before heading over to tactical.

The remainder of the bridge crew arrived by 0800, and after giving a brief welcome speech—_very _brief, since Lylan did not want to appear overly formal, which she certainly was not—the captain gave the order and the ship was underway out of the Solar system and into the galaxy beyond.

"Engage."


	2. Just Another Day in Starfleet

**I'm sorry this chapter is so late; I've had a lot going on... winter break... Christmas... school... that stuff. Anyway, here is chapter 2. There's still not much of a plot; it's mostly character-development-type stuff. Enjoy!**

* * *

Captain Lylan channeled all her excitement into her grip on the arms of her chair. It was almost too much to keep herself from vibrating in her seat. But the captain couldn't bee seen as anything other than a pillar of strength by the crew, and shaking herself out of her chair would _not_ help her create that image.

Speaking of images, she had other matters to attend to. She rose form her (comfortable) seat. "Lieutenant Kres'sh, come with me, please. Commander, you have the bridge."

With that she walked off the bridge and into her ready room. Thel followed after her, and as she seated herself behind her desk, he stood formally across from her. "Sir?" he asked.

Sara put her hands on her desk. "Now, I know what you do before you come on board this ship is your business, but what I witnessed last night was unacceptable for a Starfleet officer. I do not want that kind of behavior to be repeated. If you are incapable of controlling yourself, you should reevaluate whether you belong on my ship. Is that understood?"

Kres'sh opened his mouth, but thought better of whatever he was going to say. "Understood, sir," he said.

"Good." She leaned back in her seat. "You may return to your post."

After the doors closed behind Thel, the captain rested her head on her hands. With an odd sense of detachment, she observed her own raised pulse and anger responses. Small wonder, she thought, that she was feeling resentment toward her chief of security. The Andorian's innate hostility aside, his actions _had _been unacceptable. No matter what the other man had done, Kres'sh was a Starfleet officer. Hopefully, it was an isolated incident and would not repeat itself. Sara's head ached at the thought of having to call security on the Chief of Security...

Every captain she'd served under, every simulation and ship's log she'd watched...they'd all made it look so easy.

The chirp of inter-ship communications caught her attention, and, pushing a stray lock of hair into place, she sat up and pressed the button that activated the screen. "Lylan here."

If the face on the other end noticed anything odd in Lylan's face or posture, it betrayed nothing through its mask of Vulcan composure. "Captain, may I remind you that your physical has been scheduled for 1400 hours this afternoon?"

"Yes, thank you, Doctor." She leaned closer to the screen. "Doctor, what would you say to joining me later for a game of chess? I've got nothing else to do during my lunch break, and it seems like the perfect time for us to get to know each other."

T'lea hesitated for a second, then nodded. "That would be acceptable," she decided. "Now, if you would excuse me, sir, I have another physical to attend to. T'lea out." The screen went dark.

* * *

Alex tucked her legs underneath herself, settling into her seat. Except for a few other off-duty officers, the mess hall was vacant—a prerequisite to her presence there. There was also, of course, the man sitting across from her, who was a prerequisite as well.

It seemed to her that Mark must consider it one of his primary purposes in life to extract her from her quarters and place her in uncomfortable situations, most often with the excuse that she needed to "get out more often." However, on more than one occasion, his efforts had resulted in her having anxiety attacks.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he was asking. "You look kind of pale."

She considered for a moment. "I think so," she said, but her voice came out a bit fainter than she had intended. "I'm just... nervous, I guess." She hugged herself, looking down and to the left.

Mark rested his forearms on the table. "Well, I don't see why," he said bluntly. "What do you have to be nervous about?"

"I don't know. It's just that the whole time I was on the bridge, I was terrified. I kept thinking I'd make a mistake and embarrass myself."

"Like stage fright."

"Yeah, I guess so." She bit the edge of her lip. "Do you think I made a fool of myself? I noticed that people kept looking at me, like I was doing something wrong."

Mark was taken aback. "No—you did fine. Why wouldn't you?"

For a moment, after he said it, Mark was afraid she wouldn't recognize the rhetorical question, but for once her thinking was a little less literal than usual. "You're right. I'm being silly. I'm just anxious because this is the first time I've ever served on a starship. I'll be fine once I get used to it."

Mark nodded mutely, anticipating the volley of words that followed.

"I could hear every sound on the bridge. Every time someone moved in their seat, or touched a button, it was like it was right next to me. That must have been what made me so tense—I couldn't block out any of the sounds. Or, I might have already been tense, and it made me more sensitive to what was going on around me, which only added to my stress. Actually, it must have been that, because I'm not usually that sensitive, so something, like stress, must have made me more so."

Mike looked at her. "Well, maybe you should bring it up during your physical. It couldn't hurt."

In the time he'd known Alexandria Thatcher (and in the considerably greater length of time that he'd known _of_ her through Luke), she had always had trouble functioning in everyday situations the way other people did. Sure, sit her down in front of an exam computer and she'd blow you away, but put her in a room full of people or ask her to make eye contact during a conversation, and she would be at a loss.

When he'd first met her, through her brother, he'd thought she was rude, or proud. Then, as he spent more time with Luke, he'd realized that she was just shy. Who wouldn't be, if they were as lost as she sometimes seemed to be? It made it hard to be anything _but_ her close friend, what with her tendency to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, as he thought of it—that is, she said whatever came into her mind when she thought of it, and didn't think there was anything odd about it.

"That's a good idea. You know, I've never met a Vulcan before. Have you? I've always been interested in their culture. The idea of a completely logical society is so interesting. I wonder if..."

Mark listened halfway as she continued emptying the contents of her mind onto the table. This was the part of being a surrogate brother that he found the most difficult. Alex's thoughts were, in fact, usually very interesting, especially to a scientist, for whom an analytical pattern of thinking was natural. The problem with Miss Thatcher was that she tended to _over-_analyze certain things.

Did she really anyone other than a scientist would be interested in the genetic similarities between bacteria strains from Vulcan and Romulan colonies?

* * *

On the other end of the mess hall, unnoticed by the other members of the crew, Captain Sarajul Lylan was leaning back in her seat (six feet on the floor, her grade school teachers would have reminded her) and perusing the contents of a crew roster. Yes, she had already reviewed it before coming aboard, and yes, she had even picked a few of its members herself, but she had little else to do, and somehow it felt right to be doing this instead of reading that new novel Dad had sent her the month before.

Who was she kidding?

She closed the current file being displayed on the padd, and pulled up one of her own.

The title assaulted her with its massive font size almost immediately. _Beyond,_ it read. Below it was a map of explored space, over which was superimposed an image of a starship traveling directly toward the viewer.

The next "page" displayed the table of contents, which listed a preface followed by twenty-seven chapters and an afterword. She selected the first chapter; the preface would be a waste of time until she actually knew what the book was about.

Feet padded across the carpeted floor. A chair slid out, and Carol Lylan sat down by her elder sister. Sara put down her padd. "Hi, Carrie," she said.

"Hello, _Captain_," Carol replied playfully. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing..." Sara met her sister's gaze. "It's something Dad sent me. It's a book."

"What's it about?"

Sara glanced at the padd. "I have no idea; I haven't even read the first page yet."

"Oh."

"So, what brought you here," Sarajul said, switching gears, "ship's business, or something else?"

The engineer leaned back, mimicking her sister's posture before she had come in, but her eyes were like ice. "I just thought I'd talk to my sister, whom I hadn't seen for three years until she docked a shuttle in this ship's hangar deck."

Sara looked at her hands. "Carrie..."

The younger sister continued, the anguish in her voice mounting. "Three years, Sara? That's a long time. Now, I'm _sure_ that even with all the exciting things you were doing aboard the _Freedom_ you could have called, just once in a while. But no. You were the Mighty Commander Lylan, who couldn't be bothered with a lowly lieutenant, even if she was your sister. I guess all those years you spent with that pitiful excuse for a father must have paid off. You're just. Like. Him."

By the end of her tirade, she was practically foaming at the mouth. There were few others in the mess hall, but Sara was still glad Carol had had the sense to keep her voice down. Hoping her sister wouldn't attack her again, she said, "Carrie, look, I'm sorry. Can we talk this over later, and somewhere more private? Like my quarters? Or yours?"

Slowly, Carol nodded. She stood. "That's just fine. I'll see you this evening, then." Her voice was surprisingly calm.

Just before she walked away, Sara added, "Lieutenant, if your feelings are going to affect your performance of your duties, I suggest you put in for a transfer right away."

"Don't worry, _sir,_" Carol said with a bitter smile. "I'll do my job."

"I'm sure," the captain muttered as her sister walked away.

Not fifteen seconds later, Sara found herself with another visitor. Elni Daron slid into the very seat Carol had just left, leaning against one arm of the chair. "Don't worry, Mr. Nguyen has the bridge. I sensed some pretty hot tempers in this area, so I thought I'd come investigate." His captain did not respond, and Daron abandoned his strategic levity. "Was it your sister?"

The first officer didn't need the responding "Yes" to tell him he was right.

"I understand there are some hard feelings between the two of you. You don't want to talk about them, do you?" Part of the second-in-command's duty was to ensure the functionality of the crew, including the captain. However, as a Betazoid, this particular first officer took it upon himself to act as a sort of part-time counselor, much to the relief of the ordinary Human ship's counselor, Tina Redding, who anticipated a very large work load in the future.

Sara snorted. "Hard feelings? She hates me."

"True." That much had been clear from the bridge. "I don't suppose you have any idea why, though."

"Yes, I do."

Her voice became very matter of fact. "When I was fifteen, and she was ten, our parents decided to get divorced. Brilliantly enough, things were arranged so that I went our father, and she went with our mother. We kept in touch and got together from time to time, but it was never the same.

"When I graduated from high school, I joined Starfleet. Carrie did the same. By the time she graduated, I was already a lieutenant. Soon, I was promoted to Lieutenant Commander, and then Commander... and I found I had less and less time for sending subspace messages to my sister.

"Finally, about four years ago, our mother became ill. It Carrie came back to Earth to be with her. I... I had just been posted as the first officer of the _USS Freedom, _and I wanted to be on the ship when it launched. Mother's sickness wasn't serious, but right before I left Carrie and I had a big fight. She thought that by leaving I was betraying our mother, abandoning her. After that, I stopped talking to my sister. I hadn't seen or heard from her until I came aboard the _Atlas_ yesterday."

Elni sat up. "And that's why she was upset with you." Sara nodded.

The Betazoid was a bit surprised at his captain's unusual openness. In his observation, Humans tended to protect this sort of thing. Perhaps Sarajul Lylan was different.

"Captain," said a musical voice. Without looking, Elni recognized the telltale mental barriers of a Vulcan.

Lylan's face lit up, and her mood improved considerably. "Hello, doctor. Are you here for that chess game?"

There was a hint of an unidentifiable _something _behind those walls as T'lea responded, "Of course, Captain. You were the one who requested it." Annoyance? Amusement? Decades of mind disciplines made it impossible for Betazoid empathy to tell.

Elni stood. "I'll leave you two to your game, then."

Both women nodded at him as he left. The board was set, and the players were ready.

About five minutes into the game, Sara said, "Doctor, I want to ask your unbiased opinion about something." She almost missed the Vulcan's next move while watching her eyebrow creep up her face. "Or, some_one,_ actually."

"Who?"

"Lieutenant Kres'sh."

T'lea nodded. "The security officer. An Andorian."

"Yes. Has he seemed... unusually hostile to you? I mean," she chuckled, "for a non-Vulcan."

If she weren't Vulcan, T'lea's voice might be said to have been dripping with disapproval. "He is, after all, an Andorian. They are an extremely aggressive and warlike race. Hostility is to be expected."

Sara made her move, her brow wrinkling in confusion. "Mm... I spoke to him not too long ago. You see, I encountered him in a... an establishment back on Earth, the night before we left. I just stopped him from beating a man to pulp. I don't know what the fight was about, or who started it, but I told Kres'sh—he was in uniform and everything—that his behavior was unbefitting of a Starfleet officer. When I spoke to him this morning, he still seemed resentful."

When the captain was silent for a prolonged moment, T'lea understood that she was expected to respond. "I do not understand what you want my opinion about, Captian."

"I was wondering if there were anything in Kres'sh files I should know about... anything that might indicate that there might be a repeat of that incident?"

T'lea moved again, capturing one of Sara's pieces. "Captain, it is not logical for you to be asking me this."

Sara's expression lingered somewhere between intrigued an amused. A smile quirked at the corners of her lips. "Oh?" She captured one of T'lea's pieces in return.

The doctor inclined her head. "Based on my understanding of Human emotionalism, you would appear to be overreacting. While the lieutenant's behavior is indeed disappointing, the circumstances surrounding it were entirely unknown to you. It would not be prudent to make any judgements when so many unknowns remain. Furthermore, although you are right to express your wishes against such an altercation taking place aboard the _Atlas, _may I remind you that Lieutenant Kres'sh _is_ a trained Starfleet officer, and a Security Chief, no less. If he were not capable of handling such situations, he would not belong aboard this ship. Check."

T'lea was uncertain whether her captain's unreadable expression was due to the pieces on the board or what her opponent had just said. Finally, she said, "You're right, of course, as I expected." She moved her pieces so that her king was no longer in danger.

"Checkmate," T'lea said.

Sara glared at the board for a second, as if she suspected some trick. Then, she grinned. "Well, I guess I should have expected that, too. But it won't be nearly so easy next time." She stood to leave.

"Next time, captain?"

Lylan gave her her biggest smile yet, the kind that, if T'lea had been able to recognize it, would have indicated some kind of mischief. "You don't think I'll let you get away with beating me like that, do you, Doctor? Besides, this has been very therapeutic. I think we'll get along well."

Not knowing quite what to make of the statement, T'lea could only think to reply, "Be certain that you do not forget your physical, Captain. It is scheduled for tomorrow morning at 0700 hours."

"Don't worry, I won't forget."

* * *

T'lea switched off the medscanner after running it over the ensign's body one last time. "Mr. Barrows, I ensure you that you are entirely healthy. Please leave now."

Ensign Barrows nodded uncertainly. "If you say so, Doctor. So you're sure..."

"Yes, Ensign. If you would please remove yourself from the table; I have other patients to attend to."

Obligingly, Tyler vacated the biobed.

"Doctor..." Barrows hesitated.

T'lea dismissed him. "Go." She entered some information to a padd.

Barrows left. A few moments later, with a hiss of automatic doors opening, he was replaced by a tiny yellow-haired woman—who looked more like a girl. Of course, T'lea recognized her face from the ship's personnel files, and quickly gave it a name. Ensign Alexandria Thatcher, age 19 Earth years, newly graduated from the Academy. The CMO had found this individual's files particularly interesting.

Alex Thatcher stood with her arms folded over her chest, not in stubbornness, but in as a feeble protection against the very formidable Vulcan standing across from her.

"Ensign Thatcher," T'lea acknowledged. "Please remove your uniform and put on the medical gown. The restroom is at your disposal."

Alex took the proffered garment silently, and obediently headed for the enclosed area. Once inside, she stripped down equally as silently, and emerged clad in the blue dress-like piece of clothing.

Thatcher's physical went smoothly until T'lea, in response to something she had read in the ensign's file. She ran tests on the young woman's eyesight, hearing, and senses of touch and balance. What she found were slightly unusual readings, by Human standards, but according to Miss Thatcher's medical records, they were not unusual for her.

Her eyesight was actually slightly better than normal. Her hearing responded well to conventional tests, but when a test for the ability to distinguish spoken words was applied, the results were disappointing. Her balance also left some things to be desired. T'lea considered the fact that the problems might be linked.

Throughout the physical, T'lea questioned the ensign casually. The responses were exact and honest, but Thatcher did not provide any information outside of her—sometimes extensive—answers. With a normal Human, the exchange would have evolved quickly into a conversation. With this particular Human, it remained a simple trading of questions and answers.

By the end of the physical, the doctor had gathered enough evidence to corroborate the diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome that stood unmistakably at the top of Alexandria's psych profile. Based on what she knew of the disorder—one that Human psychology had been aware of in one form or another for centuries—Ensign Thatcher's behavior fit with it perfectly. Social awkwardness, lack of coordination, sensory distortion...all were symptoms of the mild Autism spectrum disorder.

"Ensign, have you experienced any... sensory problems lately?" she inquired.

The Human considered. "Well...there was yesterday, on the bridge... I was having trouble tuning out all the sounds everyone was making. It was kind of overwhelming. Does that count?"

"Yes. Do such things happen to you frequently?"

"Well... mostly when I'm nervous, or stressed out."

T'lea nodded, as if this confirmed something she had been thinking. "I can prescribe a medication that will lessen those effects, if you choose. However, it may also cause some dizziness and disorientation."

"Are there other options?"

"Yes. You can begin speaking with the counselor to devise a method of coping with or even preventing these incidents. You could also decline any treatment, if you think the problem is not serious."

Alex considered it for a while. "I think I'd pick talking to the counselor."

T'lea nodded. "I will have her contact you later. You may go."

As Ensign Thatcher left, T'lea noted that the girl's behavior seemed very logical... for a Human. Yes, she did certainly have emotions, but it seemed that she did not allow them to control her. T'lea decided that it would be worth keeping an eye on this individual's progress. At the very least, it would be an interesting study, as she had never observed the effects of Asperger's Syndrome firsthand before.

* * *

"Sickbay to Captain Lylan," a disembodied voice intoned.

Reluctantly, Sara answered, "Lylan here. What is it?"

"Captain, your physical was scheduled for 0700 hours. It is now 0710. If you continue to delay, I will have to reschedule you for another time."

Attempting to hide her embarrassment, Sara replied, "That won't be necessary, doctor. I'll be right there." She nodded to Commander Daron as she headed to the turbolift; he took her place in the center seat.

"Sickbay," she told the lift, and moments later, with no indication of movement other than the lights on the wall, the doors opened to reveal her destination.

She strode over to the station where T'lea was waiting, reading some file or another. Hearing her approach, the Vulcan looked up. "Captain."

"Sorry I'm late. Let's get this over with."

T'lea had to work quickly to make up for lost time. When the captain objected to her haste, she simply reminded the Human, in carefully selected, logical terms, that it was her own fault for forgetting and going to the bridge instead of coming directly to sickbay.

Sara didn't tell her that she hadn't forgotten, exactly; she found the procedure of the physical extremely redundant, as she was in perfect health, thank you, and would be much more useful on the bridge than in sickbay under the metallic scrutiny of various diagnostic machines. At least, that's what she told herself.

She _did_ tell her CMO about the time she and her sister (before The Divorce) had gotten in trouble at school for gluing the school bully's locker shut _and _hacked the computerized controls of said locker to berate the aforementioned student quite loudly once the door had been unglued, respectively.

T'lea's response was to repeat her request for the captain to please step onto the scale so she could be weighed.

Later, Lylan repeated her attempt at humor by referring to the ship's current technical problems (the majority had not been solved in the past three days). "You'd think that by the 24th century we'd have figured out a way to make starships that work more than ten percent of the time."

The doctor paused for a matter of seconds, barely long enough for Sara to notice, let alone realize that it was in response to her joke. "Captain, I would advise you not to make any more purposeless comments for the duration of your physical. The process will be over more quickly if you do not interrupt."

"They're not purposeless!" Sara objected. "Humor is a proven method of reducing stress levels and increasing quality of performance. I thought that as a doctor, you of all people would understand that."

Much to Sara's dismay, however, none of her comments received a reply after that point. She left feeling slightly indignant at the Vulcan's somber ways, not that she really blamed her. The Vulcan, on the other hand, saw no logical reason for her human captain's behavior and was only able to conclude that Captain Sara Lylan was simply an illogical being.

* * *

After Captain Lylan left the bridge, Commander Daron leaned back in his seat, overseeing the activity of the Alpha Shift on the bridge. The overall emotional atmosphere was calm, maybe even a little bored. Surely they were nearing their destination—a small, lifeless system near the Neutral Zone.

"Ensign Thatcher, what is our ETA to the Hyskan system?"

"Um, twenty hours. Sir." She was oddly nervous for someone answering a simple question, he noted. In fact, Thatcher was oddly nervous _in general._ So far, though, it hadn't been a hindrance, and Daron decided to "leave well enough alone" (a Terran saying) in this case.

Hyska VI had unusual geographic formations, according to the report from the scouting ship that had mapped the area a few months ago. Now the Atlas was being sent there to conduct further studies, to investigate whether the formations had been artificially created. Ever since the revelation in '69 of the existence of the ancient humanoid race that had seeded its genetic material throughout countless star systems, Starfleet had been enthralled by the historical mystery—at least, the scientific departments had. The idea of a common ancestry for so many of the galaxy's intelligences was too important to ignore.

Still, Elni had his doubts about Hyska VI. The planet was interesting, yes, and the geographical formations _could_ have been artificially created, but... something just didn't seem right. It was too close to the Neutral Zone for one thing. And the Romulans had been unusually active recently. Putting two and two together, Elni suspected there was more to this mission than met the eye.

It had been four years since the Reman takeover of the senate, and the government of Romulus was barely recovered from the effects. That, at least, was according to the last reports. The Federation, along with all other parties, had been completely shut out of Romulan affairs. Even intelligence reports brought back only vague, useless rumors.

But long-range scans _had_ been able to detect the unusual amount of Warbirds just beyond the Neutral Zone. Over years of working with humans, Commander Daron had developed some fairly accurate instincts, and right now those instincts were telling him that _that_ was the real reason the _Atlas_ was going to the Hyskan system. Only time would tell, though, if anything would come of it. More human idioms.

Elni wasn't aware of how much time had passed until Captain Lylan reentered the bridge with a swoosh of the turbolift doors. He relinquished the center seat, returning to his former position at the Master Situation console. Only nineteen hours to go.

* * *

Mark lay stretched out on his bed, his feet dangling off the end. His eyes followed the lines of text on the padd: the latest book Alex had loaned him.

Eventually, he realized that he was reading the same line over and over again. He put the padd down, sighing at his lack of concentration. He was off-duty, and he supposed he should be taking advantage of this fact to either get some sleep (despite the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon) or spend some time in the crew lounge, getting to know some of his shipmates.

At the moment, he didn't much feel like doing either. His mind told him that he should be well-rested for his physical tomorrow, and for when the ship reached Hyska VI. As a senior officer, he would have to get to work right away when he came on duty, maybe even participate in a landing party. The idea wasn't unpleasant.

As for the idea of going to the crew lounge or the mess hall... well, at the moment it just didn't seem right. What would he do there? He only even knew one person out of the hundreds on this ship, and she'd run the other way sooner than join in anything involving large crowds. So he'd sit alone, which would defeat the point, or he would join some of his new crew mates and get to know them.

At any other time, that would have been a great idea, so why not now? Maybe he was coming down with something.

He groaned at the thought, his mind jumping to his impending physical. It was set for the next morning, just before he went on duty. What would it be like, he wondered, having the Vulcan doctor examining him like that? Probably cold, impersonal, not unlike the machines she would use. Vulcans were like that. There had been one, an engineer named Senik, on the ship when Luke had died. How could he have forgotten? When the landing party had been attacked, it had been Senik who had called for beam-up... _after_ Luke had been taken.

When they had finally retrieved the broken, bleeding body, the doctor had told Mark sadly that there was little he could do, that even if Lieutenant Thatcher did recover, it was likely that he'd never recover from his injuries, especially the ones to his spinal column and nervous system. In the end, it hadn't been an issue—there was nothing left of his friend to worry about, unless you believed in an afterlife and all that.

Even after the captain's official notification-of-death message, Mark had felt the need to speak to Luke's family personally. He'd met them before, occasionally, but it was still awkward to call them about such a sad, sad, subject. Hours had been spent comforting his grieving mother over the light years; hours more answering all his sister's questions. Mr. Thatcher had remained aloof; the death of his eldest child had marked him deeply and permanently. Unable to fully express, or even acknowledge what he felt, Luke's and Alex's father, private man that he was, had retreated into himself, behind a carefully-erected emotional wall, and eventually self-destructed.

Leaving his family with one more loss to mourn.

Mark, ever the faithful friend, had kept in touch with them the whole time. It was in this way that he had begun to get to know Alexandria. She had had so many questions about her brother at first. Did he like the _Stormcloud? _Had he made a lot of friends there? How close had Mark and he been?

Some of her queries had leaned a little toward the odd. How many decorations did he have in his quarters, and what kind? Where had he spent the most time? Mark finally realized what she was doing—building a mental picture of the environment her brother had spent his last days in.

She was an odd creature, to be sure. But what with her innocence and honesty, it was only natural to like her. And with all the information she was constantly spewing, it was impossible _not_ to get to know her. But she was vulnerable, too, more so without her brother and protector. It was in anticipation of this that Luke had made a request of Mark some months before his death.

"You have to promise me something," he'd said, out of the blue.

Mark had been taken by surprise. "What?"

"If anything happens to me..." he'd cut Mark's forthcoming remark about how ridiculous that was "...I need you to take care of Alex. She's like a baby, and Mom and Dad never really knew how to handle her. Promise you'll look out for her."

And Mark had, never anticipating how quickly he'd need to fulfill that promise.

It had been a mark of Luke's character, he mused, that compulsion to see to everyone else's needs first. Because of that impulse, he had been immune to prejudice, accepting everyone equally and openly, no matter how badly he though of them.

Smiling wryly, Mark realized that he was depicting Lucas Thatcher as nothing short of an angel. The irony of that idea made him laugh aloud. There had been no shortage of times the man had fought—physically or otherwise—for his beliefs. It had even landed him in front of a board of inquiry once, when they were both ensigns. But that was another story...

* * *

She sat motionless on her bed, leaning against the bulkhead.

Her mind drifted through a reality all its own, totally unrelated to the outside world.

Within this state of existence, time was not a factor.

There was only thought, and silence.

Even her bodily functions were slowed, an indicator of her extremely relaxed state.

In her own way, T'lea was in a state of total bliss.

It was a staple of Vulcan existence, as essential to their psychological makeup as their trademark logic.

A wailing alarm jerked T'lea out of her meditative trance. Red lights flashed. Within seconds, T'lea stripped out of her meditation robes and donned her uniform. Then, with inhuman speed, she darted out of her quarters and down the corridor, passing other rapidly-moving crew members on her way to sickbay. She did not give even a passing thought to the cause of the red alert; it was more important that she preform her duties to the best of her abilities and preserve the lives of the _Atlas _crew.

The automatic doors opened on a frenzy of activity in sickbay. The instant she stepped in, a nurse appeared by T'lea's side to inform her of the current status of each of the patients. None of them had been on the ship long, but everyone in sickbay was already aware that the Chief Medical Officer would tolerate nothing less than top efficiency, especially in an emergency.

T'lea headed straight for the most injured patients. So far, these were fairly simple; a few broken bones, a large gash or two, and one minor phaser burn. All were treated easily and quickly.

It was then that a pair of disheveled ensigns entered, carefully carrying a third between them. As soon as the young man had been placed on a biobed, T'lea began examining him.

The extent of his injury was evident even to the naked eye. The whole right side of the man's body looked as if it had been crushed. There were extensive burns, as if from some kind of explosion, especially across his face.

Without looking up from her patient, T'lea asked, "What happened?"

One of the ensigns, a female, answered, "We had followed some of the Hyskans into cargo bay two, and we were about to ambush them, when one of them fired and hit a container. It exploded. Kyle was the only one nearby."

The Vulcan accepted the conformation of her theory with equanimity. She stored away the hint about the ship's status; let the security officers worry about security matters. She would need all her concentration to put this human back in working order.

It was difficult to know where to start; the biobed screen showed that the internal damage was severe. The most immediately life-threatening was a fractured rib near the man's lungs, which could puncture one of them given the chance.

As T'lea set to work, delivering orders as serenely as if she were patching up a child's skinned knee, she couldn't help but pick up bits of information from the background.

"...Hyskans on Deck 11...send someone to intercept them..."

"...multiple disruptor wounds...must be getting weapons from the Romulans..."

"...some kind of telepathy. I swear, there's no way they could have seen or heard me coming!"

"...never seen bruises like these. What kind of..."

"...got to be kidding me! There's no way..."

As more and more chatter filtered through her attempt at selective deafness, an image began to form in T'lea's mind. It seemed that the inhabitants of Hyska VI were opposed to the idea of the Federation conducting geographical surveys there. A group had boarded the _Atlas,_ and were apparently attempting to either divert it or destroy it.

Having repaired the young security officer's broken rib, T'lea turned the bone knitter on his right leg. The fractures were slightly less severe there, since the leg bones are the strongest in the body, but they were still very bad. It would be very helpful to know what had been in the exploded container, but neither of the patient's companions knew, and there was no time to check the records. She would have to make do.

T'lea had just begun healing the first of many fractures in Ensign Halley's right arm when she heard the telltale chirp of a communicator. "Bridge to sickbay."

"T'lea here." The voice calling from the bridge was definitely male. Commander Daron.

"Doctor, you need to come up here now. The captain's been injured."

* * *

**I hope you liked it! Please review. Chapter 3 will (hopefully) be up soon.**


	3. The Night Shift

**See? What did I tell you? Here it is!**

* * *

The night shift on the bridge was excruciatingly boring, as Lieutenant Tyssa had expected. Her fingers drummed silently on the Ops panel and she glanced around. The ensign sitting next to her was studying the ship's flight plan with almost too much eagerness. Behind her, the command chair was occupied by Commander Daron, who had the bridge in the captain's stead.

The stars were scrolling past on the main viewscreen, mesmerizing those who were new to bridge duty, Tyssa Lin included. She found herself staring off into the black, oblivious of anything other than the image in front of her.

The ensign at helm control shifted in his seat, breaking the spell. Tyssa looked away from the screen.

Suddenly, something caught her eye on the panel in front of her. She became alert; "Commander, sensors are showing a small vessel heading toward the ship!"

Daron lost no time in asking, "Can we identify it?"

"No, sir, it's nothing that's in our memory banks."

"Ensign, what is the most likely point of origin based on the vessel's flight path?"

There was a pause as the ensign made the calculations. "Hyska VI, sir."

"Aren't the Hyskans a pre-warp civilization?" someone asked. That _was_ what the computer records had said.

"They were last time we looked," Daron said. "Lieutenant," he said, meaning the woman occupying the tactical/communications station, "can you hail them?"

"Yes, sir. Should I put them on screen?" At the commander's confirmation, the starscape flickered out and was replaced by the image of a bald, purple-skinned alien.

"Who are you?" the being demanded, looking directly at Daron.

"I am Commander Elni Daron, first officer of the starship _Atlas_ of the United Federation of Planets. Who are you?" He was mimicking the alien's behavior based on what he sensed of his emotions. It was a far better tactic than going with what _he _perceived as politeness, which a representative of a totally foreign culture might perceive as something very different.

"I am Ydarr 19 Eoosk. I am the captain of Vessel 1 of Hyska. "

Daron nodded. "Is Vessel 1 the first warp-capable ship form your planet?"

"Yes."

"So, this is your first warp flight?"

"No." If Daron had not been telepathic, he might have thought the Hyskan captain was being rude, or was hiding something. As it was, he didn't sense any ill intent or deception; it had to be the way the Hyskan was.

"Well, congratulations anyway, then. Captain, can assist you in any way, and if so, how?" Daron was beginning to understand hew this alien thought.

"Yes; by letting me speak to your captain."

"I think that can be arranged. How would you like to speak to her?"

"I will come to your ship."

Before Daron could reply, the Hyskan ended the transmission.

"Well, _that_ was unusual," Daron remarked. He tapped his combadge to call the captain.

* * *

_She sprinted down the path, leaping over exposed roots and stones as she sped by the pole-like trees. She skidded to a halt at the edge of the forest, centimeters before she would have fallen to her death at the bottom of the cliff._

_She whirled around; her pursuers were catching up with her. She could hear them approaching. She reached for her weapon, but it had fallen from her belt somewhere far behind. She peered over the edge of the cliff. It was a long way down, but maybe death by acceleration would be better than death at the hands of her enemies._

_Her decision was made. She took a step, and launched herself over the edge. Behind her, she heard the infuriated howls of the beings that had emerged just in time to witness their prey taking herself from them forever._

_The air rushed by her as she fell. Her hair trailed behind her. Her skin pulled tight against her face. She spread her arms out wide and smiled. A metallic chirp sounded somewhere nearby. She looked around as best she could, trying to find the source of the noise. When it sounded again, she realized it was coming from… her?_

Sara moaned and stuck out her arm, searching. Where was that stupid combadge? She located it on the table beside her bed and activated it.

"_Bridge to Captain Lylan,"_ Commander Daron's voice said.

"Lylan here," she muttered. "What's going on? I was asleep."

"_I'm sorry, Captain. We've encountered a Hyskan vessel, and the captain wants to speak to you. I didn't want to wake you, but he insisted."_

That woke her up. "Wait. I didn't know the Hyskans had warp drive yet." She pulled off her pajamas.

"_Neither did anyone else, until a few minutes ago. But from what we've learned, it looks like this is one of their first warp flights." _

Sara straightened her uniform and pinned the combadge to her chest. "I'm on my way. Lylan out."

* * *

When the starboard turbolift opened, Daron stood to greet the captain.

"Where's the Hyskan captain?" she lost no time in asking.

"He said, and I quote, 'I will come to your ship.' He gave no mention of how he'd get here, or whether we would be required to help. The Hyskans don't seem like a very talkative bunch."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see then. Have you tried hailing them again?"

"Yes, sir, they—"

"Captain, a shuttle from the Hyskan ship is requesting permission to dock in the shuttlebay," the communications officer interrupted. Then, realizing she had just interrupted a commanding officer, she started to apologize, but Lylan cut her off.

"Permission granted, Lieutenant. Commander, you're with me."

"Aye, sir."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Ydarr 19 Eoosk studied the alien ship as he approached it in the shuttle. It was much larger than Vessel 1; about three times its size. It was also far more elegant than Eoosk's cobbled-together ship. It was clear that this species had been traveling space for a long time.

He sent a signal that indicated he was ready to dock in their ship's shuttlebay. There was a slight delay, but the doors opened and a new message appeared from the alien vessel.

Their computer was requesting that he relinquish control of his vessel so the more advanced, more accurate computer could guide his craft in safely. He denied the request; to require help in such a simple maneuver would be unnecessary. Perhaps the aliens not understand. They were, after all, khllein, and could not be expected to understand such things.

He guided the shuttle in effortlessly, controlling the speed precisely so that he came to a stop at exactly the right place.

The computer told him that the atmosphere was being restored in the bay. When it was finished, he stepped out of the shuttle and onto the deck of the strange, vast ship. Two aliens came through a door that opened of its own accord. One was the being he had spoken to before. The other was the captain of this ship, and could not be otherwise, because he had told Commander Elni Daron that he would speak to the captain.

"Hello, Captain," said the alien captain. The khllein stuck her arm out at an odd angle. Eoosk ignored the gesture, not knowing what it meant.

"You leave," he told Commander Elni Daron. "I will speak to the captain."

Commander Elni Daron raised one eyebrow. "I'll be on the bridge," he told his captain. Then he left.

Captain Lylan stared at the Hyskan, trying not to judge his behavior by her standards. She would give him the benefit of the doubt and assume that he hadn't meant to be rude. And, if that was the case, she was pretty sure Counselor Redding would have a field day studying this creature's psychology.

Commander Daron had told her to be direct with the Hyskan, to ask what she wanted to know without worrying about being rude. "Should I call you Eoosk, or use your whole name?"

"You will call me Eoosk."

She waited for a further reply, but it was soon evident that one was not on its way. "Right, then. Let's go to the observation lounge, where we can sit down."

In the turbolift and corridors, Lylan tried to make conversation with the Hyskan, but her questions were either answered with 'yes,' 'no,' or a short phrase. She finally gave up when it started to feel like she was interrogating the man.

In the observation lounge, she took a seat at the head of the table. Eoosk sat down next to her, around the corner. Lylan leaned her elbows on the table and folded her hands. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"You must give me your ship."

Her heart missed a beat. "_What?_"

The Hyskan repeated, "You must give me your ship."

Sara blinked, trying to clear her head. "I know what you said—what I meant is, _why?!_"

"The gaakhllein wish it."

"…The gack-what?" Sara was surprised and confused to hear the obviously alien word filter through he universal translator. The concept behind it must be very difficult for the computer's language banks to understand.

"Gaakhllein." She wasn't even going to try to pronounce it.

"Who are they? Why do they want my ship?"

"They are the ones who gave us the ability to fly in space. You are their enemies."

Enemies? "Do you mean… the Romulans?"

"Yes."

Oh. Crap. _Crap._ She tapped her combadge hard, wincing as it knocked into her rib cage. "Commander Daron, come to the observation lounge. Security, send a team, too. We have a problem."

To Eoosk, she said, "Listen. I don't know what the Romulans promised you in exchange for this, and I don't care. But you can _not_ have this ship!"

The Hyskan looked at her blankly. "I will have your ship." It seemed so simple to him; why didn't the khllein understand?

He called to his crew, the device on his wrist amplifying his thoughts. Use the transporters, he told them. Come to the ship. Bring weapons.

Commander Elni Daron entered the room followed by three security guards. "What's going on?"

Addressing the security team first, Sara said, "Take Mr. Eoosk to a holding cell." When they were alone, she said to Daron, "The Romulans gave the Hyskans warp drive; they didn't develop it on their own. And now the Hyskans are helping them. They're going to try to take over the ship."

Both commanders emerged back onto the bridge. "Red alert," the captain announced. Red lights flashed and sirens blared.

"Sir!" cried the Bajoran seated at the Ops station. "There's been an unauthorized beam-in in cargo bay two! Life signs are Hyskan."

Sara swore under her breath. "The Romulans must have given them transporters, too. Security to cargo bay two," she called. "Senior officers, report to the bridge! And turn off that siren; it's going to drive me crazy."

* * *

The siren woke Mark from some unremembered dream. In the haze, he tried to remember what the standard procedure for a red alert was. Well, he couldn't go wrong with putting on his uniform, at least. By the time he had done so, the captain's voice had ordered all senior officers to the bridge. He raced out of his quarters and dashed into the nearest turbolift.

Lieutenant Kres'sh and Lt. Commander Lylan were also in the lift, and it continued on its path after Mark got in. Unfortunately, before it could reach the bridge, it ground to a halt. "What happened?" he asked, directing the question to Lylan.

The engineer was already messing with the turbolift's circuitry. "The Hyskans must have cut the power. We'll have to climb."

Thel removed the hatch at the top of the lift, and the three officers climbed out.

"I should be in engineering," Carol grumbled. "Those Hyskan idiots are probably wreaking havoc down there."

"Let's just focus on getting out of this shaft first," Mark said. "_Then_ we can worry about the Hyskans."

* * *

"Power to aft turbolift has been cut," Tyssa reported.

"Is there anyone inside?" the Captain asked.

"Lieutenant Kres'sh, Lt. Commander Lylan, and Lt. Commander Nguyen are, but… it looks like they're climbing up the shaft, sir."

"Good. Computer, where are the Hyskans now?"

The computer reported calmly, "The Hyskans are in the port turbolift."

"They're coming up here," Daron said unnecessarily.

"Can you block them off?" Lylan snapped.

"It's too late!"

The turbolift doors opened, spilling out three Hyskans armed with disruptors. They fanned out; one of them went for the captain.

Reading his intentions, Daron lunged for him. But the Hyskan sidestepped and fired at Sara, who promptly collapsed. Daron caught her and eased her to the floor. He felt her pulse; she would be fine for a while now.

The bridge grew silent.

"You will give us control of the ship," the tallest of the three intoned.

All eyes were on Daron. He shook his head slightly, signaling the crew to wait. "Why?" He asked the Hyskans.

"You must," replied the short one without missing a beat.

"Why?"

A strange look came over their faces. "The gaakhllein said we must capture the ship. Therefore, it is necessary that we capture the ship. If you do not give us the ship, we will take it."

"Did the gaakhllein tell you why it was necessary for you to capture this ship?"

"No," said three voices at once.

"It is not important," the short Hyskan added.

"Why not?"

The trio looked even more confused. "We do not understand," said the medium-height one.

"Does it not matter to you what the gaakhllein will do with the ship once they have it? If they use it to kill people?"

"No."

Daron concealed his disgust at the Hyskans' disregard for life. "Why does it not matter?" he repeated.

"It does not matter…It does not matter because what is necessary is more important than lives."

The commander might have liked to continue to psychoanalyze the Hyskans, but he didn't get the chance. The doors at the aft of the bridge hissed, and almost before they were opened, Lieutenant Kres'sh sprang through, holding his phaser out in front of him.

The Hyskans froze. Mark and Carol joined him, also armed with phasers. "Drop your weapons," Thel hissed. The Hyskans complied.

Once the Hyskans had been taken to a holding cell along with their captain, Daron returned to the captain's side. "Bridge to sickbay."

* * *

Dr. T'lea entered the bridge from the starboard turbolift and strode directly to the prone captain's side.

"How was she injured?" she asked.

"Disruptor blast," Commander Daron answered immediately.

A hypospray hissed against Sara's neck. Her eyes flickered open. "Uhnn…" she moaned. Then her mind snapped into focus. "Commander! Where are the Hyskans? What happened?"

"The Hyskans are in the brig," Lieutenant Kres'sh replied.

"One of them shot you with a disruptor. After that, the commander distracted them while Lieutenant Kres'sh, Commander Lylan, and Commander Nguyen snuck up on them," Lieutenant Tyssa informed her.

"Captain, you need to go to sickbay," T'lea interjected. "A disruptor wound can cause serious complications if it is allowed to go untreated."

Sara sighed. "You're right." She started to stand up, using the chair as leverage. But it started to turn. Before she could even star to fall, Elni caught her and pulled her to her feet so smoothly that it looked as if he had just been helping her up.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

"I think so," she lied, trying to pull away. He kept a firm hold on her. He knew she felt embarrassed at needing help, but she wouldn't make it to sickbay on her own.

Leaving Nguyen in command for the moment, the threesome made their way off the bridge. Daron had Sara's arm around his shoulders, and was basically carrying her as she struggled to stay conscious. On the other side, T'lea hovered, keeping tabs on the captain with her medscanner.

When they finally made it to sickbay, Elni lowered the captain onto one of the beds. Being in sickbay was uncomfortable at times like these; the proximity of so many negative feelings was hard to bear. Nevertheless, he stood by the captain's side as the Vulcan doctor attended to her. Eventually, T"lea looked up at him and said, "The captain will be fine. You need to sleep."

"I was supposed to be Working the night sift anyway. I think I'll go relieve Mr. Nguyen."

* * *

In the brig, Ydarr 19 Eoosk, Kseevn 8 Oohl, Niddk 10 Hlles, and Ivooik 1 Skka were thinking to each other.

It will be very difficult to capture the ship, Oohl thought.

We must escape this cell, Eoosk added.

How?" Skkaa wondered.

The khllein will bring us food, Hlles thought excitedly, and they will lower the invisible wall. Then we will leave.

Will the khllein let us leave? Oohl asked.

No. Skkaa thought.

We must hurt them, Eoosk thought. Then they will have to let us leave the cell.

The we will capture the ship!

The Hyskans settled into a light sleep, satisfied that their plan was both brilliant and foolproof.

* * *

**You may have noticed something a little weird with the sections in chapters 1 and 2. I put lines there; the computer ate them. Now there are new lines. The story should make more sense now.**


	4. Life is Just Full of Surprises

**I'm sorry for the huge delay; the universe seems to be conspiring against me. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Sarajul Lylan had always been a light sleeper, so it was no surprise that the good doctor's early morning activities awakened her. She was surprised, however, to find herself nearly falling off the biobed she lay on. The biobed itself was a surprise, too, until Lylan found she vaguely remembered being hauled into sickbay in the wee hours of the night.

She felt the skin on her stomach, where the disruptor had hit her. There was no evidence of a wound. She rose from the biobed and looked around. T'lea was nowhere in sight.

Sara wandered into the smaller room at the back of sickbay, where she did not like what she saw.

The one occupied biobed contained a badly-burned young man in the charred remains of a yellow uniform. The extent of his injuries was the reason for the stasis field around him: obviously, whatever was wrong with him was more than what a mere starship's medical facilities could handle.

Sara felt a rush of anger. This member of her crew had most likely been injured in the line of duty, protecting the ship from the invading Hyskans.

T'lea approached her from behind. Without looking away from the patient, Sarajul asked, "What's wrong with him?'

"Ensign Halley was one of three security officers sent to cargo bay two to intercept the Hyskans. In attempting to stop them, he was caught in an explosion triggered by weapon fire hitting a container of volatile chemicals."

Sara walked closer and saw the full extent of the ensign's injuries for the first time. "My God," she gasped. The man's entire body was laced with burns. On the side that must have been closest to the explosion, the skin actually looked as if it had started to melt.

"Captain?" T'lea looked with concern at the other woman, whose hands were shaking at her sides.

"This never should have happened!" Lylan exclaimed, slamming a fist against the wall. "I should have anticipated the Romulans' involvement—we're less than an hour from the Neutral Zone. I should have realized—raised the shields before they beamed aboard…I should have…"

"Sir." T'lea was uncertain whether logical advice would have any effect on her captain in this emotional state, but it was worth a try. "You could not have anticipated the Hyskans' actions, nor could you have prevented the injury of Ensign Halley or any of the other crew members. Your self-incrimination is illogical."

"That may be so…but I hate to have something like this happen on our first mission." For a moment, T'lea almost felt sympathy for her captain, but she squashed the emotion before it could shame her by revealing itself. She did, however, recognize that the captain had also regained her composure and was looking around for a chronometer.

"The alpha shift begins in fifteen minutes," she advised.

Sara nodded. "I'll be on my way, then." If she hurried, she could make it back to her quarters to change before reporting to the bridge. "And doctor, will I be seeing you this afternoon?"

T'lea glanced at Kyle Halley's immobile form. "I need to run a few more tests on Mr. Halley, but once they are complete, I see no reason not to join you."

Sara grinned. "I'll be seeing you, then," she said, before dashing through the door.

* * *

Not more than twenty minutes later, the doors reopened, admitting Mark Nguyen, whom T'lea immediately intercepted.

It was not until well into the lieutenant commander's physical that the Vulcan commented on his unresponsiveness, which had piqued her curiosity in its unusual degree. "What is troubling you, Mr. Nguyen?"

"What?" His head snapped up. "What are you talking about?"

T'lea inclined her head. "You have been remarkably silent over the course of the past twenty-five minutes. Both reports and my observations indicate that such is not your usual behavior; the only logical conclusion is that something is troubling you. As Chief Medical Officer of this ship, it is my duty to determine any factors that may negatively impact its crew."

Nguyen laughed, which was hardly the reaction T'lea had been expecting. "_That's_ what this is about? Logic? Duty? Don't you Vulcans ever think of anything else? It's revolting."

T'lea cocked an eyebrow. She had believed this attitude of passionate Humans toward Vulcan philosophy to be very outdated. Apparently, this was not the case. Fascinating.

"Mr. Nguyen, while you are entitled to your opinion of myself and my species, I suggest you refrain from expressing it in such a manner in the future."

Nguyen snorted and looked away, but made no further comments. T'lea continued with the physical as if nothing had happened.

* * *

The events of last night, which had already become common knowledge even to those of the crew who had not been on duty, were giving Ensign Alex Thatcher a lot to think about.

First and foremost, she was glad at having been asleep. The three aliens alone had done minor damage to dozens of people. Apparently they were far stronger than Humans, and possessed some kind of telepathy that alerted them to the presence of other beings. As Alex was neither a security officer nor significantly above Starfleet's minimal physical requirements, she was not sorry to have avoided that situation.

Despite her misgivings, however, she was intrigued by what she had heard of the Hyskans. True, she was interested in everything, but...

The turbolift doors distracted her when they opened and released Mark, who relieved the lieutenant that had been manning ops in his absence. His movements were slightly off, and his gaze was turned downward, which Ally thought indicated that he was upset. She couldn't be sure, of course, so she continued to observe him.

After a little while, Mark exhaled strongly. His hands were moving constantly across the panel, although they weren't doing much. He was nervous, then.

Alex was focusing on Mark's body language so much that, in addition to blocking out much of the background noise on the bridge, she had filtered out something the captain had said. She waited; if the captain had been speaking to her, she would repeat herself.

"Ensign Thatcher?"

"...Yes, captain?" she asked hesitantly.

"Sensor readings, Ensign." They had been monitoring Hyskan space for signs of Romulan activity. So far, nothing.

"Negative—wait, no, there is a small ship entering sensor range to starboard. It shows similarities to the Hyskan Vessel One."

"They are hailing us," announced the communications officer on duty. "Putting them on screen."

The viewscreen blinked to life, displaying an image reminiscent of communication with Captain Eoosk. However, this time the caller was female.

"I am Klloa 2 Seev Ydarr. You hold my offspring and his subordinates. You must release them."

Captain Lylan's face hardened. "I have no intention of doing any such thing. Your... offspring and his friends have attempted to capture my ship and have injured several members of my crew. I cannot, _will not,_ release them to you just because you ask me to. You must understand that."

"It is you who does not understand. These hllein are my responsibility. You _must_ give them to me."

The captain hesitated. She didn't want to offend the Hyskans by violating some custom of their society; but she could not simply release the prisoners into this woman's custody.

"Miss... Ydarr," she ventured, "I suggest we discuss this further in private. We can beam you over here, if you like."

Ydarr answered without hesitation. "That is acceptable." The transmission ended.

"Raise shields after she's aboard," Lylan ordered. "We don't want to fall for the same trick twice."

* * *

Ydarr 19 Eoosk was snoring loudly, much to his cellmates' consternation. The fact that his unconscious mind was broadcasting his dreams did nothing to alleviate their discomfort; they found the disjointed images quite distracting.

Suddenly, Eoosk jolted upright. "Seev Ydarr!" he exclaimed. When his companions wondered, he explained, "Seevhlleim Ydarr is here. She has come to take us away.."

This revelation caused even more of a commotion than Eoosk's breathing problems. "But we must capture the ship!" Oohl insisted.

"Seev Ydarr will help us capture the ship," Eoosk said. "She will have a good plan."

"You must ask her what her plan is, so that we will do it," Skaa said excitedly. "_Then_ we will capture the ship!"

* * *

Kolla 2 Seev Ydarr was almost exactly two meters tall. Like the males of her species, she was completely bald, and had scaly purple skin that suggested reptilian ancestry. Her large, ovaloid eyes gave Captain Lylan the distinct impression of being stared at.

She began formally (and somewhat nervously), "I am Captain Sarajul Lylan of the Federation Starship _Atlas._ Welcome aboard." She extended her hand, unsure if the Hyskan woman would understand the gesture. She did, furthering the general hypothesis that the Hyskans were telepathic.

"We will talk now," Ydarr stated bluntly.

"Of course," Sara said. "Would you like to sit down? The observation lounge is-"

"No," Ydarr interrupted. "We must talk _now_."

"Oh. All right, then." Sara did her best to remain calm. "What do we need to talk about?"

"The gaakhllein."

"You mean the Romulans."

"Yes. They came to our world many rotations ago. They gave us ways to travel through space and to move objects and to heal the sick. But they also began to tell the hllein what they must do. This is the role of the hlleim, not the gaakhllein. As seevhlleim, I know that the gaakhllein—the Romllen—must leave."

Sara was puzzled by the presence of the strange words. The Universal Translator _should_ have been able to find a Standard equivalent…unless the concepts were too complex for its program to grasp immediately. Or if there were no Human equivalent.

"I'm not sure I understand," she admitted. "Hllein… gaakhllein… I don't understand what these words mean.'

Ydarr blinked. "I will explain. We will walk."

As the two women left the transporter room and walked down the corridor, the Hyskan began to elucidate, gesturing as she spoke.

"The hllein are those who need guidance. They must be told what they must do, but once they are told they will do it and not question the one who told them. The hlleim are the ones who tell the hllein what they must do. When a hlleim produces an offspring, she becomes seevhlleim. I have produced nineteen offspring, nine of which have had a contributor." She paused, and seeing that the khlleim did not understand, she continued.

"A contributor is a hllein who is selected by a hlleim to give his traits to her offspring. Only hllein with the most superior traits are chosen. They are the fastest, strongest, and most obedient. I know from the gaakhllein that it is different for khlleim, that they must _always_ select contributors _before_ producing offspring. This is not the case for us."

Sara was having a minor epiphany. "So… the hllein are males, and the hlleim are females." She struggled with the strange words.

"Yes. Those are the words the gaakhllein used—'may-ole' and 'fee-may-ole.'" Those words were just as alien to her.

"What about the kllein?" Sara asked.

"The khllein are those who are like the hllein—the 'may-ole'—but are not from our world. The gaakhllein are the khllein who taught us about worlds other than ours. They are also the khllein who are harmful. You are khlleim, and that is why I came to you for help, so that you and your khlein will make the gaakhllein leave."

"My… khllein? What do you mean?"

Sara wasn't sure, but she thought the Hyskan "seevhlleim" looked annoyed.

"I mean your offspring who are on your vessel. You will tell them that they must help us, and they will help us."

"Wait. Just. A. _Minute_." Sara stopped dead in her tracks, her face turning warm. "My _offspring_?"

"You must be a very prolific seevkhllein to have produced enough khllein to service this vessel. Who are your contributors?"

By now, Sara's blush was beet red (despite her darkish skin tone) and beaming like a small sun. "_Contributors_?" She thanked God that the corridors were empty at the moment. "Listen Ydarr, you've got it all wrong. I don't have any children—and I'm not married, or even seeing anyone. The crewmembers of this ship are all people who have _volunteered_ to serve the Federation of their own free will. Whatever the Romulans told you about other species, they obviously did _not_ tell you the whole story."

Now it was Ydarr's turn to look taken aback. "But you are sexually mature… surely you _must_ have produced several offspring by now."

Skillfully hiding her immense discomfort, Sara replied, "Our species are very different, in many ways. If you like, you could learn more about us from our computer library. It has information about everything you want to know."

Ydarr considered. "That would be beneficial. But first we must make the gaakhllein leave."

"Now that I can agree with," Sara said. "Come with me to the observation lounge—we can discuss it there, along with my senior officers."

* * *

"According to Seev Ydarr, the Romulans have been on Hyska VI for several months. They gave the Hyskans disruptors, transporters, and warp drive, among other technologies. We can only guess at their motives, but they seem to have gained the Hyskans' trust enough that the hllein—the male Hyskans—would attempt to capture the _Atlas_ for them." Sara Lylan finished the briefing and placed her hands in her lap. Around the table sat the _USS Atlas's_ department heads—Carol Lylan, Thel Kres'sh, Elni Daron, Mark Nguyen, and T'lea—and the Hyskan representative, Klloa 2 Seev Ydarr.

"Given the nature of our prisoners," Kres'sh said, "it would be prudent to tighten the security measures around them. They might attempt to escape."

The captain nodded. "Good idea. Ydarr, you say you have a certain influence over them. Could you… talk to them? Convince them to behave."

"Yes. They will obey me."

"Good. Now, about the Romulans. They most likely have a cloaked ship orbiting the planet. We have been scanning for any trace of them at regular intervals for the past several hours with no results."

"You'd think they'd respond to a Federation starship in orbit with them," Carol grumbled. "If I were them, I'd have done something by now."

That is why you are the engineer and not the captain, Thel though. Attacking us would be stupid.

"We haven't tried an antiproton beam yet," Nguyen pointed out. "That has been know to work."

The captain looked at her chief engineer. "Carol, how long would it take you to set that up?"

"I'm not sure, captain. A few hours at most."

Sara nodded. "Do it."

* * *

Lieutenant Kres'sh, Captain Lylan, and Seev Ydarr stood in front of the force field that contained the four Hyskan "hllein." The purple humanoids were facing each other, as they had been for several minutes. Thel would have said they were having a conversation, but they hadn't said a word. Either they just liked staring at each other, or they were communicating in some way other than what the Andorian could detect.

Finally, Seev Ydarr turned to face the Starfleet officers. "They will not attempt to escape. They will not capture your ship."

"Thank you, Ydarr," the captain said.

The trio exited the brig. Captain Lylan said, "We have a while before we'll be able to do anything else. Would you like to see the ship's library now? Or Mr. Kres'sh could show you around the ship."

Ydarr considered the offer. "You will show me around the ship."

"I wish I could. But I need to be on the bridge the second we find any sign of those Romulans. If you'd like to wait until this is all over..."

"Khllein Kres'sh will show me around the ship," Ydarr corrected quickly.

"Good. Lieutenant, I'll see you later."

The captain turned and left, leaving Thel alone with Ydarr.

"Let's begin, then," the Andorian said without a hint of annoyance in his voice.

* * *

Ydarr leaned over the railing, looking down onto the lower deck of Engineering. From that height, the activity below resembled the movements of the eelooh insects on her homeworld. "They are making a way to find the gaakhllein," she determined.

"Yes," answered Thel to the implied question. "They're setting up the equipment for the antiproton beam." Engineering was the last stops on this tour. Thel had already shown her most of the saucer section of the ship before the Hyskan had wanted to see the vessel's inner workings. Thel had his doubts about whether it was a good idea to show off their technology to a member of a less sophisticated race. It was, however, the captain's orders, so he would not dispute it for the moment.

Thel was still uncomfortable around the captain. The incident between the two of them the night before they had come on board was… embarrassing. To be put in his place by a Human, even if she _was_ a Starfleet captain...

But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that the captain did not trust him. This was not simply a matter of personal pride—the Chief of Security was the person the captain had to trust the most. It was vital to the safety and smooth functioning of the ship.

Of course, if he'd known that securing the captain's trust would mean acting as an escort for this… person, he might have reconsidered.

"We must leave," Ydarr declared, walking to the exit without even looking at Thel. When he did not follow immediately, she stopped and glared at him. "Khllein, you will come."

It wasn't like Thel was unaccustomed to taking orders. It was that he was unaccustomed to taking orders from a civilian, and someone who refused to acknowledge that males had any kind of intelligence at all.

He gave within seconds, stalking after her with his disgust barely restrained. When they were in the corridor, the Hyskan said, "We will go to the place where illusions are solid." She had seen it in passing on one of the higher decks; two crewmen had been exiting a room when the room's contents had vanished behind them. The khllein had explained, calling it a word that made her tongue feel strange, which she could not remember now.

"The holodeck?"

"Yes—the hllodeik. I will see it work." Ydarr was doing very well at being patient with the khllein. It wasn't his fault that he was deaf to her mind-nudges. If he required extra instruction, it was a failing of the species and not of the individual. She tried to keep this in mind while interacting with all the khllein.

In the holodeck, Ydarr "requested" (more like "demanded") to see a program of Earth. From the many options stored within the computer's memory, Thel selected one that seemed appropriate.

The duo stepped through the double doors and onto a city sidewalk. People of many different species walked past; none payed the newcomers any attention. Then, they were just computer projections. "This is San Fransisco," Thel stated, "a city on the Earth continent called 'North America.' Starfleet Headquarters and Starfleet Academy are located here, as well as the Federation Council. It is a very important city."

"The sky is blue."

Thel couldn't resist looking up. The Terran sky had taken some getting used to when he'd first come to the planet. Seeing it, even as a simulation, brought back a number of memories, some of them pleasant, some of them not so much. "It's a result of the gasses in the atmosphere. 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, and 1% other gasses."

Instead of responding, Ydarr stepped in the path of a passing Bolian, who looked at her strangely before moving around her. "This one is unfamiliar," she said.

"Many species are a part of the Federation."

They walked down the street—slowly, because Ydarr stopped to examine every little detail that seemed unfamiliar to her. She found the oddest things—like bricks, doorknobs, shoelaces, and the weeds growing from the cracks in the sidewalk (a problem that remains unsolvable even in the 24th century). Yet she never asked questions, only saying, "I am unfamiliar with this," or "This object is strange." Thel was no communications officer, but it occurred to him that there was no way to ask a question in the Hyskan language. Either that, or this matriarch was reluctant to show anything as weak as a lack of knowledge before a male.

Suddenly, the hologram flickered; pale lines on a black background appeared in the sky. The power fluctuated again, and San Francisco, Earth was replaced by an empty holodeck.

The door refused to open. As Thel went over possible scenarios and strategies in his mind, he attempted to contact the bridge. "Kres'sh to bridge." Silence. "Kres'sh to security." Nothing. "Kres'sh to anyone who can hear me." Even more nothing. Thel sighed and looked at the alien beside him. "It looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while."

* * *

In engineering, Carol was putting the finishing touches on the setup for the antiproton beam when the ship suddenly rocked to the "side" (as much as there are any directions at all in space). As she caught herself on the counter, she called out, "Engineering to bridge! What the _hell_ was that?"

"Sara here," her sister's voice replied. "_'That'_ was the Romulans. Looks like we won't be needing that beam after all."

"You could say that."

"I don't suppose," Sara said casually, "that you could do anything about the power. Half the ship is on emergency backup."

Carol grimaced. "I noticed. I'll do what I can; no promises. Carol out."

Sara sighed as the channel went dead. She had more pressing issues, specifically the warbird that had just decloaked right in front of the _Altas._

"Try hailing them again," she ordered, and heard the bleep of buttons being pressed in quick response.

"They're receiving, sir, but they're ignoring us."

She hadn't really expected anything else. After all, why would a ship full of Romulans come out of hiding to attack a Starfleet ship and _then_ decide to talk? They might not be devoted to logic like their distant relatives, the Vulcans, but they weren't stupid.

"Evasive maneuvers," she said.

Another blast rocked the ship. "Sheilds are down to fifty percent," Ensign Thatcher announced.

"We've lost all communication systems, Captain," said the communications officer whose name Sara couldn't remember somehow.

Great.

She stared at the Romulan ship hovering on the viewscreen. They could hardly retreat now; the Romualns would shoot them down before they could get out of the system. There was only one other option. "Return fire. Aim to disable them."

A phaser beam shot out from the front of the ship and struck the warbird—right where it hurt.

"Nice shooting, Ensign!" Sara couldn't help exclaiming.

The young woman's pale skin turned pink at the compliment. "Thank you. ...Captain," she returned awkwardly.

The communications officer—Lorenzo? Lawrence? Something like that—spoke up. "Captain... the Romulans are hailing us."

Sara couldn't help smiling a little. "Put them onscreen."

The image of the warbird was replaced with one of a Romulan woman. "I am Commander Telal. Why have you violated our space?"

Sara raised an eyebrow. "_Your_ space? In case you haven't noticed, you are on the _Federation_ side of the Neutral Zone. I should be the one to ask _you_ why you are in _our _space."

Commander Telal didn't miss a beat. "We received a call for aid from this system. Thinking it was one of our own vessels that had reported a system malfunction not too long ago, we followed it, intending to rescue our comrades before they were detected by the Federation. Instead, we found that _this_ primitive society had sent out the distress call. We had just begun our investigation when you arrived."

"Well, commander, hopefully we can get this cleared up quickly with our respective government so we can each go about our ways. _Atlas _out."

Once the screen was dark, Sara turned to Commander Daron. "She was telling the truth," he said, "at least in part. She is definitely hiding something from us."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Sara muttered.

* * *

**Whew... finally done! Did I do a good job on the scene with the Romulans? I'm not too confident about writing them, the pesky, sneaky things...**


	5. Meet the Romulans

**The security chief grasped at the crack between the two doors, attempting to force them open. But the hairline joint between the two panels was too small for his fingers to find purchase. Grunting, he gave the door a frustrated shove before stepping back. They were still trapped.**

**Seev Ydarr was standing motionless nearby, as if she had not interest in trying to get out. It was almost like she saw Thel's efforts as the actions of a foolish, over-reacting child. And had decided to wait patiently until he realized it, too.**

**Once again, Thel tried to use his combadge to contact some other area of the ship, but once again he failed. He was beginning to lose his patience, something that would either lead to him devising a clever solution or making the problem worse.**

**The double doors were the only exit from the holodeck. The rest of the room was covered in the grid that made the projection of holograms possible. The holodeck in its entirety was a combination of transporter technology and sensory deception. Objects would appear and disappear as the real person moved around the illusory environment.**

**Transporters. Thel was no engineer, but it seemed that if a holodeck could create and remove matter, then it should be able to transport a person out of its confines. Hypothetically, of course.**

**He got down on his knees and popped out the panel that covered the holodeck controls. Behind it lay a matrix of circuits and systems that Thel was not trained to understand or operate. As he examined the pieces of the puzzle, he was well aware that by tampering with them he could do just as much harm as good.**

**Thel became aware of Ydarr watching him. His antennae twitched in annoyance. "What do you want?"**

"**You are attempting to change the device so that it can take us out of the room," she stated. "I will help." She squatted down next to him. "You must assist me."**

"**You cannot help here," Thel objected. "Our technology is more advanced than what you're used to. You can't possibly-"**

"**You forget the technology the gaakhllein gave my people." She gazed at the components behind the panel. It was hardly identical to the systems on her ship, but it was close enough. After a few seconds, she had an accurate map of how the holodeck worked, and could visualize exactly how she could reconfigure them to do what she needed.**

**Pushing the alien's hands aside and snatching the emergency tool kit. She ignored the objections he hissed at her and began rearranging the holodeck controls.**

"**How do you know how to do that?" The Andorian demanded.**

"**I have seen the transportation devices the gaakhllein gave to my people. This is similar."**

"**You've **_**seen**_** it?" Thel found his rage boiling up inside him. "You haven't had any engineering training or experience, and you're going to try to turn the holodeck into a transporter? You'll kill us both!"**

"**I will succeed," Ydarr assured him, figuratively up to her elbows in computer parts. "Your technology is not as complicated as you think, khllein."**

**Thel gritted his teeth and turned back to watching her violet hands. Much to his surprise, they seemed to know what they were doing. They moved back and forth without hesitation, which he took as a good sign. He had no idea what she was actually doing, but since he couldn't do any better, he didn't question it. **

* * *

**Sara leaned back in her seat and laced her fingers together. She thought the gesture made her look very formal; very much like a starship captain. She stared at the blank viescreen as if it held the answers to all her problems. What were the Romulans hiding? How could she find out? In the meantime, what to do about them? For the moment, at least, they were safe, since Ensign Thatcher had successfully maneuvered them away from Hyska VI and into orbit around one of theneigboring planets.**

**Of course,there was th more immediate problem: half the power on the **_**Atlas **_**was out. And since internal communications were gone as well, she couldn't call down to engineering to check on Carol's progress.**

**Science Officer Nguyen was on the deck rearranging the bowls of the communications station in hope of reestablishing communicatons with the rest of the ship. He was making little progress. In the mean time, thought, the captain was attempting to hide her growing restlessness. She didn't like just sitting here and doing nothing, even if the work was getting done just fine. She crossed her legs to stop them from jiggling, and asked, "Ensign Thatcher? What is the status of the Romulan ship?"**

**The young woman answered, "They are still orbiting Hyska VI, Captain."**

**Sara nodded, hearing the nervousness apparent in the ensign's voice. She'd noticed it before, but hasn't thought much of it, since they were **_**all**_** nervous. Now Thatcher's anxiety stood out against the momentary lull on the bridge, and it was easy to see how uncomfortable she was. She kept looking around as if she were expecting something to happen, or as if she were afraid of something.**

**A loud crash made Ensign Thatcher jump; the captain flinched in response. All heads turned to the source of the commotion. The pannel which normally covered the circuitry under the communications console had been balanced skillfully on the chair. Some motion had disturbed it, sending it crashing it down onto Mark Nguyen.**

**Mark tossed the pannel to the side and stood up. He was somewhat unsteady on his feet, which was understandable, considering the long gash the pannel's sharp edge had created down the side of his face and neck. The captain stepped immediately to his side, swinging his arm over her shoulder as he threatened to fall over. "Let's get you to sickbay," she said, and escorted Mr. Nguyen to the turbolift.**

* * *

**T'lea ran the dermal regenerator over the Human's long gash. She had already cleaned out the wound, and thanks to modern medical technology, there would be no sign of the wound once it had been closed. And it was all finished in a matter of minutes, as opposed to the months it would have taken if doctors still had to physically **_**sew**_** their patients back together after something like this.**

**Even for a Vulcan, the idea was distasteful.**

**Mark had his head tilted away from the Vulcan, as if by not looking at her he could pretend she wan't there. He was sure she hadn't forgotten his outburst that morning. If she wanted to say something about it… well, he wasn't going to appologize for speaking his mind. Even if what he thought went against the ideals of the Federation… well, if everyone conformed to those expectations, what would happen to diversity and free will? If being honest cost him his reputation, his rank, or his life, so be it. It was a flaw in the system, not him.**

**T'lea put the dermal regenerator away, and Mark cleared his head of morbid thoughts. His hand floated up to his face and touched the skin. There was no sign of a wound, or even a scar. He still felt a bit lightheaded though, no doubt from all the blood he'd lost.**

**Without a word, the doctor jabbed his arm with a hypospray, making him flinch. "What's that?" asked the captain, who had not moved since she had come in.**

"**It will accelerate the body's replacement of lost blood cells," she explained succinctly. She adressed Mark. "You may go now."**

**Resisting the urge to make a smart comment, Mark stood up, thanked the doctor, and departed.**

**Sara looked at T'lea and said, "Doctor—I know it may not be my place to ask this, but—is there some kind of…**_**disagreement**_** between you and Mr. Nguyen?"**

**T'lea lifted her eyebrow and tilted her head to the side and down. "Not that I am aware of, Captain. Why do you ask?"**

**Sara shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I couldn't help but notice some tension, at least on the part of the lieutenant commander, that I thought indicated a certain degree of personal discomfort."**

**T'lea pondered. "He did express definite distaste for me during his physical this morning. In fact," she hesitated slightly because of the implications of what she was about to say, "he expressed what could possibly be termed hatred, or at least a great deal of anger towards, the Vulcan philosophy and way of life."**

**The captain looked positively astonished by what she'd just heard. Anticipating her emotional Human response, T'lea said, "Captain, I do not wish for Mr. Nguyen to experience any repercussions because of what he said to me. There is always the possibility that he was merely under a great deal of stress at the time, and it would be illogical to punish a person for expressing his opinion."**

**Sara smiled. "I don't intend to punish anyone. Do I wish Nguyen could be a little more tolerant? Yes! But like you said, I can hardly throw him in the brig. I suggest that, if you can, get to know him, and show him that he's wrong." She paused. "Is that power?" The lights were definitely coming back on full power. She tapped her combadge. "Lylan to engineering. Well done, Carrie!"**

**Carol Evrona Lylan, enclosed but for her feet in an access tube, replied, "I didn't do it, Captain. From what it looks like, main power came on all by itself."**

"**Can you figure out what caused it?"**

"**I'm working on it. I'll get back to you when I have anything to report. Engineering out."**

"**Acknowledged," Sara said futilely after the communication was terminated. "I guess I'd better get back to the bridge," she said to T'lea. "I'll see you later."**

* * *

**Ydarr worked as fast as any Starfleet engineer Thel had seen. Withing twenty minutes of deciding what to do, she was almost done. She was just about to place one last component when suddenly the access pannel was gone and the pair found themselves kneeling on a sidewalk in San Francisco.**

**Thel immediately assessed the situation and realied that they had not been transported lightyears away by a super-powerful alien being. The holodeck had simply turned back on and resumed the program.**

**He did not bother to explain this to the Hyskan, who was doing pretty well figuring things out on her own anyway. "Computer—exit," he called. A door appeared in the brick wall of the nearest building, and, unnoticed by the holographic pedestrians, they stepped through it and into the hallway.**

* * *

**Commander Telal glared at the image of the Federation starship. If her gaze had been a phaser, the vessel would have been gone, thought her first officer, Asel. She was very beautiful… it was a shame he would have to kill her.**

**The mission here on Hyska VI had been the idea of the leaders of Telal's faction. That's why she had been appointed as commander of the **_**Dagger.**_** But the leaders of Asel's faction disapproved of the invasion plan; they knew that the Romulan Empire was too weak to take on the Federation—at least at the moment. They had to regain their unity if they were to avoid destruction. In that way, at least, they agreed with the despicable rebels that called themselves Unificationists.**

**The problem on a mission like this was that one could never tell where the loyalties of one's shipmates lay. Since Shinzon's takeover, the Romulan government had fractured in to numerous factions, all struggling to gain control. The Empire's careful control was gone, and opinions that would have once brought a quick death to anyone who expressed them were now the basis for entire political campaigns.**

**To someone like Subcommander Asel, who valued order, this was the worst possible fate for his beloved Empire. **

**That was why his faction, a group of conservatives with close ties to the Tal Shiar, had arranged his presence on this mission. Commander Telal was a dangerous revolutionary, and she and her faction had to be stopped. The lives of all Romulans were at stake.**

"**The Federation captain knows more than she lets on," Telal murmured. "Starfleet intelligence must have some idea of our plans for this sector, or it never would have sent a starship to such a remote system."**

**The science officer, Sianek, spoke up. "Isn't it possible they are on a scientific mission? After all, Hyska VI does have unique features that may be of interest to Federation geologists."**

"**Then why not send a research vessel?" weapons officer Yurel countered. "The Federation has many vessels that are perfectly suited for this kind of mission, and that one out there," she pointed at the view screen, "is not one of them. Clearly, the Federation has some ulterior motives.**

"**The Federation is not stupid," Sianek retorted. "They are wary of sending their ships too close to our space, and rightly so. A science vessel could never defend itself against our war birds. As a so-called expert in weapons and tactics, you should know this, Yurel."**

"**Why you-" Yurel jerked as if to lunge for Sianek's throat, but a shout from their commander stopped her short.**

"**Enough!" Telal barked. "I will not have my officers bickering like undisciplined children! If you cannot control yourselves, you can get off this ship right NOW!"**

**Silence hovered over the bridge. Asel pictured Telal blowing Sianek and Yurel out of a hatch, and the image almost, broke through his iron control and made him smile. Almost, but not quite. The two bickering officers glanced at each other and quickly lowered their gazes to their work stations. No doubt they would be overwhelmingly silent for the rest of the mission.**

**At Telal's order, Sianek initiated a scan of the Federation ship. After staring at the display for a few seconds, he announced, "Sensors show five Hyskan life signs on the **_**Atlas.**_**"**

"**Five? There should only be four: Eoosk and his men…"**

"**Sensors also show an additional Hyskan ship in the vicinity." Sianek looked directly at the commander. "There's no one on board."**

"**Put the ship onscreen," Telal ordered.**

**The viewer blinked and a close-up of a one-being sublight shuttle pod. Telal immediately recognized the markings adorning the side.**

"**That's a Seev's pod," she said. Then she gritted her teeth. "Ydarr! It must be! That woman is interfering with our mission yet again… who knows what lies she's telling those gullible humans about us!"**

**Telal's bridge officers looked at her intently, waiting for permission to speak. After apparently ranting inside her head for a few minutes, she ordered, "Hail the Federation ship again."**

**The communications officer, Jorren, punched several buttons, but before she could speak, helm announced, "The Federation ship is pulling out of orbit!"**

"**What?" Telal demanded. "Aren't they too damaged for that?"**

"…**It looks like they're moving to one of the other planets, Commander."**

**Well, false alarm, then. Telal turned back to Jorren. "Hail them."**

**Jorren hesitated. "I can't get through to them. There's some kind of interference at their position that's blocking the signal."**

"**Break through it," Telal said succinctly.**

"**Yes, Commander, I'll work on it."**

"**Good. In the meantime, open a channel to our friends on the planet. I need to speak to Hiren."**

**Jorren nodded, and Hiren's face appeared on the screen. He had a bruise forming on his left cheekbone, and his hair looked a little disheveled. Noting his appearance but deciding against commenting on it, Telal said, "How goes your mission, husband? Have you gained access to the mines?"**

**Hiren's head shook slowly. "I have gained the trust of most of the males here, but many females still resist the changes we have brought. I am afraid that if they do not get their way soon, they may revolt."**

**Telal bit her lip. "Will the males fight for you?"**

"**In any other case, yes. But they are too afraid of the females to challenge them. My wife," his voice grew quiet, "if the females rebel, the eight of us will not be able to stop them. They will overrun us. Even with our disruptors, there are still too many of them."**

"**It will not come to that," Telal assured him in the same familiar tone. "If you call, we will come to your aid."**

"**I know, my wife," Hiren said. He then switched back to a businesslike demeanor. "I predict that within the week I will have gained access to the mines and will be ready for the next step."**

"**Good. It has been too long already."**

**Hiren let a small smile creep onto his face. "Goodbye, Telal."**

"**Goodbye, Hiren."**

**Hiren was the one complication in Asel's plan. If he killed Telal and was caught, Hiren would surely exact revenge swiftly and painfully. For this reason, the utmost caution must be taken. Asel must not be connected with Telal's death, even if it was an accident.**

* * *

**The **_**Atlas **_**hung limply in orbit around the lifeless planet. Although main power had been (mysteriously) restored, the ship had still taken heavy damage from the Romulans. Carol Lylan was in the middle of repairing this damage when a voice called to her from one of the consoled in the main engineering area.**

"**Commander, I think I found something," said an excited crewmember. "Look at these readings here and here."**

**The crewman moved aside and Carol leaned forward to see the display. "You're right. I need to tell the captain about this."**

* * *

"**So, as you can see, the radiation reacted positively with our systems with the ultimate result of restoring power."**

"**So you're saying," said Lieutenant Nguyen, "that something on that planet down there managed to restore power all the way up here? If we could get a sample somehow…the benefits to science would be enormous!"**

**Sara nodded. "I can see how that could be. Seev Ydarr, what do you know about this?"**

"**My people call the substance you speak of Seenl. Small amounts exist on our world, but more is on this world. That is why we accepted the gaakhllein's technology: so we could mine it."**

"**And do the Romulans take any part in the mining of this 'Seenl'?"**

"**No. I and the other hlleim have prevented them. They cannot gain access to the mines. We do not permit it."**

**Sara nodded. "Do you have any idea why they might want this material? Can it be used as a weapon in any way?"**

"**Captain, our computer simulations show that when this compound is combined with certain other substances it can be used to produce a very specific kind of radiation…" Mark interjected.**

"**And what kind of radiation is that?"**

"**Thalaron."**

"**I thought the Romulan Empire agreed not to pursue that technology any more," Sara said.**

"**They did," said Elni. "Or at least the group in power at the time did. But after the senate was destroyed, the Romulan political system fell apart, and the Empire broke up into various factions, all fighting for their own interests."**

"**And one of these groups wants to pick up where Shinzon left off. The question becomes, what are we going to do about it?"**

* * *

**And there you have it! Sorry this chapter is so short… Please review anyway!**


End file.
